Filthy Wash
by Torahamutaro-chan
Summary: Marcus Flint indulges in a nice, filthy wash. Slash fic. Rated MA, 18 and up only.


I came up with this idea while reading **Bittersweet Alias**' Incorrigible Infatuation. I noticed most stories with this pairing are full of sweet, "misunderstood" romance, and I just thought to myself… Flint is a total dick, why write him any different? And voila, this is the result: a sex-crazed asshole with a lust for a certain little Gryffindor's butt. Behold my brilliance! Lol. If you prefer romance, check out the story mentioned, it's really cute.

**Attention!** If anyone feels this story is too racy for this site, I'll remove it and post it elsewhere. I don't need to get my profile deleted; my writing is what keeps me semi-sane.

Warnings: Rated MA for rape of a minor and the sick fantasies of my mind.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, simple as that.

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Marcus Flint pissed off.

Here he was, horribly humiliated after yet _another_ loss to Gryffindor, and sporting a magnificent hard on. It was all Potter's fault. The little git had outsmarted Malfoy, tricking the blonde with a false dive. Brilliant technique, but infuriating none the less. Not only that, but as the boy flew, his pert little arse wiggled around in the air, causing Marcus' second problem. He had wanted to fly over and fuck the boy over his broom, longing to make hurt cries exit those small pink lips. If he were a morally righteous person, he might have been disgusted with himself at his thoughts, but he wasn't moral and his thoughts only furthered his growing problem. He sighed grumpily, staring out over the dark, now-empty pitch.

The Slytherin captain flew quickly through the rain, turning and diving and flipping as fast as he could. Nothing he did seemed to help. He needed release in more ways than one. He landed and was about to turn towards the Slytherin changing rooms when a flash of scarlet caught his eye. A short figure had walked into the Gryffindor changing rooms, far too short to be anyone but the person he had been fantasizing of.

"Potter."

With firm purpose, he walked in after him.

The Potter boy stood, undressing from his wet clothes. His thin torso was already bare and he worked to untie his riding boots. After the thick leather was out of the way, he bent, removing his pants in the process. It was a delicious sight for the perverted Slytherin. He had to restrain himself from jumping the boy. He'd wait until all the dirt was off of the pale, perfect flesh before making his move…

Harry moved over to the showers. He liked waiting for the others to leave so he could wash in private. It gave him time to think. Little did he know, his mind would soon be reeling. The small third year stood under the hot streaming water, rinsing the mud from his skin and hair and reveling in the warm, clean feeling he received.

Flint undressed himself as he noticed the last of the filth disappear from his prey's skin. It was time to move in. As Harry reached for the tap handle, two hands slammed onto the tile in front of him, locking him in. The boy froze. He felt warm breath ghost against his neck and a hard cock rubbing against his arse. He began to shake when he realized his wand was in his satchel. The arms around him were large and he knew he wouldn't be able to defend himself physically. He was scared…

"Don't try to struggle, Potter. You'll only make this worse for yourself," the familiar voice whispered huskily in his ear.

Large, calloused hands moved down to caress his smooth cheeks, squeezing them. The older boy smirked as the little lion's hole peaked out with each squeeze. He held one side open and thrust a thumb inside the boy, shivering blissfully at the harsh cry his ears received. Despite Flint's warning, Harry struggled to escape the uncomfortable pain in his arsehole, twisting and clawing to get away. This did not deter the teen in the slightest. He wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and pulled his bum into the air where he then proceeded to discipline his plaything. Smack after smack came down upon the poor Gryffindor's backside, accompanied by little yelps from the boy. After a few more harsh strikes, he stopped and he set him back on his feet.

"Now, are you going to be good?"

Harry sniffled and nodded, feeling every bit his young age.

"Good. Stay still, or I'll punish you harder next time."

He grabbed Potter's shoulders and turned him so he was facing the wall and bent him forward. As he moved his hands down the smooth seeker's body, he ghosted his fingers over his nipples. Harry shivered in disgusted pleasure. Seeing this, Flint twisted the perked flesh between his fingers.

"A-ah!" Harry had never felt anything like it. It hurt, but felt good at the same time. He guessed he was just so used to pain, growing up with Vernon's beatings everyday, that it affected him differently. How sick… Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, a sharp pain shot up his spine. A hand shot over his mouth, muffling his pain-filled cries. It felt like a tree branch had been shoved up him. His assaulter's cock was slick with what Harry realized was his body wash. It stung. His mind raced.

Flint ran his hands along the younger boy's sides and over his small feminine hips as he fucked the little celebrity into the wall. Oh, how many times he'd thought of doing this, of taking the pretty little lion and claiming him as his own. Not even his fellow Slytherins could deny the boy's beauty. He was a china doll, beautiful and longing to be broken by cruel hands. He even knew of a few Death Eaters lusting after him; and yet Potter was oblivious, to the stares, the fantasies of those around him. Hell, even the Longbottom brat seemed to have a crush on the boy wonder! It was laughable. But for now, the great Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was his, and he had taken him first.

He slowly began his thrusts, getting a feel for the tight muscle enveloping his length. This was unmistakably a virgin's hole. He thrust faster, keeping his hand over the quivering lips and quieting the loud whimpers that escaped the boy's throat. The noises fed his perverse mind and drove him to quicken his pace. In the end, he found himself humping the tight arse like a dog in heat; total abandonment. It wasn't long before he felt his release bubbling closer in his stomach. A few quick thrusts later and he was spurting his seed inside Potter, filling him until his cum leaked out the sides and around his shaft. He pulled out and pumped a few more streams onto the boy's cheeks and back. He would remember this sight for many late-night wanks; Gryffindor's Golden Boy collapsed on the shower floor, face and arse cheeks flushed, his seed leaking out of him and down his slender thighs.

The running water washed away the evidence of his activities. He smirked, kneeling down and stroking the small boy's side. He leaned in close and whispered a single sentence, stood, dressed and left.

Harry stayed on the tiled floor until his body was pruned from the water cascading onto him. He didn't know whether he should be disgusted, excited, or scared at what the Slytherin had said to him.

"_See you next time_."

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This is definitely **not** my best work. Ugh… It sucks! Oh well, I can always fix it later.

For those who are curious, I _will_ be making a sequel involving a one-sided romance and lots of hot man/boy love.

I hope you enjoyed.


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